


Worship

by zmaj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7594453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zmaj/pseuds/zmaj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tooru hates Japan in summer. He can’t think, he can’t go out, he can’t even eat. All he can do is lie on the sofa and watch shirtless Hajime. And <i>suffer.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Worship

“You’re doing this on purpose.” Tooru accuses him. It is hot and humid and he is going crazy. Oh, how he hates Japan in summer. He can’t think, he can’t go out, he can’t even eat. All he can do is lie on the sofa and watch shirtless Hajime. And _suffer._

Hajime’s eyes light up and he lowers his head, like he always does when he is caught. “I'm really not,” he says.  
Tooru clicks with his tongue, eyes lingering on Hajime's naked back as he opens the fridge, taking out ice cream. He has to stand on his toes to get the cups. It isn't fair how much it affects Tooru just to watch him exist.

“Can I take a photo of you?”

“What?” Hajime says, turning around. The tips of his ears are turning dark red. What a nice pair they make, together with Tooru’s cheeks.

“I said--”

“I know what you said.”

“So? I want to photograph you.”  
There is challenge in Tooru’s eyes, and it grows with every passing second. Hajime sighs, putting the ice cream on the floor, next to the laptop.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Tooru has _that_ nickname at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't want to push his luck now that he got his way. Instead, he goes to his room to fetch a camera. When he returns to the living room, he finds Hajime on the floor, lying on his stomach. He is checking the news with one hand and holding a spoon of vanilla ice cream in another.

Tooru sits on the back of his legs and takes a photo of him. There is a lot of freckles on his shoulders, some of which are known to Tooru for as long as he knows Hajime, but there are few on his nape that appeared only recently. No matter how much his skin loves sun he should use sunscreen. _Click._  
Tooru’s fingers caress Hajime’s nape, and he smiles when he hears his content sigh.

“You won’t put this anywhere, will you?”

“Hmm. I could use it as a final portfolio, but I don’t think they will appreciate it as much as I do.”

Hajime grunts, but doesn't shake him off. He is too busy checking the weather forecast and eating ice cream.

“Can you turn around?” Tooru stands up and nudges at Hajime’ sides. He takes another shot of Hajime’s lower back, two dimples and another constellation in between.

Hajime complies, staring up at him, waiting. He is having a spoon in his mouth and Tooru’s heart stutters. _Gorgeous. Click._

“You’re ridiculously beautiful,” he says to Hajime, smiling when he sees him all flustered, arm over his eyes.

“Fuck.” Hajime whispers. _Click._

Tooru sits back, on his thighs, grinning. “Later.”

“And you’re accusing me of doing it on purpose.” Hajime mumbles. He plays with the spoon, but he isn't hungry any more. Not for ice-cream anyway.

“Aren't you?”

“A little,” he smiles up to him.

Now it is Tooru’s turn to look away. He feels Hajime’s fingers on his wrists and he raises his eyebrows in silent question.

Hajime doesn't reply, he simply takes camera in his own hands. _Click._

There are sun rays caught in Tooru’s hair, making him even more gorgeous. _Click._

He fidgets with his fingers, now that he has nothing to hold. He wraps his arms around himself and Hajime frowns. He lowers the camera, asking,

“You don’t wanna?”

“No, it’s not that, I just. Feels a little funny to be on this side of the camera. _”_

“Make a show then.”

Tooru lowers his head, chuckling. He lifts his shirt, but only a little. There is a little bruise on his hip and Hajime’s breath stops. _It is his._

After all these years and after everything they've been through one would think they got used to each other. That they would slip into comfortable routine and live their lives, walking a more or less bumpy road. But to Hajime, it still feels like the beginning, as if there is so much to Tooru he still has to discover. Like that stormy summer afternoon, years ago, when rain caught them and they had to run back to his home. Soaking wet, they took off their clothes the moment they entered the house. It was Tooru who pushed Hajime up against the wall, over the edge and kissed him breathless.

And now that they’re older and wiser and admittedly, not running high on teenage hormones, he still finds himself breathless when Tooru looks at him like that. _Click._

Tooru is shirtless now, his knees pressed to Hajime’s sides and he knows that look. He closes his eyes when he feels Tooru’s fingers sliding up his chest, and opens his mouth when they graze his lips. _Click._ His finger hits the button when Tooru pushes his index and middle finger in his mouth. He sucks on them, breathing through his nose, and his thoughts are slowly dissolving. Tooru’s sly smile kills the last of Hajime’s sanity, as he moves up, sitting on Hajime’s groin.

His wet fingers are travelling up Hajime’s collarbone, his eyes closed. He lets Tooru to play him like an instrument, to get out of him all the right sounds. He feels his fingers taking away the camera, one last _click_ and then Tooru puts it on the table. He takes Hajime’s hands in his, intertwining fingers as he has him just where he wants. He puts his hands above his head, guiding them to hold the legs of the sofa.

“Hold on tight,” Tooru breathes in his ear, “and enjoy the show.”

Hajime’s grip tightens in reply, but his hands stay where they have been put. He feels knots in his stomach and his lungs hurt from holding breath too long. He is impatient and a little nervous, too.

Tooru stands up, taking off his underwear. He is standing naked, staring down at Hajime, and he _smirks_ as he touches himself. He sits back down and sighs happily when he feels Hajime through his pants.

He takes his sweet time, hand slowly stroking his cock, his heavy eyes on Hajime, tying him down. Hajime’s curious gaze travels down, and Tooru’s hips move in a slow, torturous rhythm.  He leans forward, lips barely touching his.

“Eyes up here.”

Hajime chuckles and closes his eyes. _He loves him so much_. Opening his eyes slowly, he whispers: “How?”

Tooru stops, at loss for words.

Hajime’s hips lift up.

“Hah,” Tooru says, voice low, “You play dirty.”

His hands wrap around his wrists, holding him down, while he drags his tongue over Hajime’s biceps. He hisses in pain when Tooru bites him. His cock stiffens. He feels him chuckle against his skin, lips kissing their way up to Hajime’s wrists. His lips move to kiss Hajime’s palms, but as he lets go of his wrists, Hajime pushes himself up, surprising him. His hands embrace Tooru’s face. _He loves this man so much._

He presses his forehead against his.

“Let me take care of you.”

Tooru’s eyes close and his body goes completely pliant in Hajime’s arms. He sighs, a tiny crease forming on his forehead,

“I lose two months of life when you’re like this.”

“Let me,” Hajime whispers, kissing his closed eyelids, “Please.”

He nods, emotions too caught up in throat to let him speak. He shudders when he feels lips against the crown of his head, then travelling down his jawline, marking him up, worshipping him like a holy thing. His breathy moans into Tooru’s shoulder are a prayer and a string of _fuckfuckplease_ a desperate litany. It is too overwhelming, too much to take. He gives himself to Tooru so easily, so selflessly, like a martyr. “Let me, too,” Tooru whispers, and Hajime’s hands in his hair tighten. _Take me._

Tooru’s hands pull down his waistband, just enough to take out his cock, pressing a thumb on the head. He isn't gentle. Hajime doesn't want him to be.

He bites down on his lip, his forehead on his shoulder. His hands in Tooru’s hair, and those slow little thrusts, that urge him to do something. _Anything._

_“_ I like it when you’re like this.”

“Like how?”

“So open in my arms,” Tooru murmurs in the crook of his neck, “so good.”

Hajime tugs at his hair, lips searching for his, but Tooru doesn't let him. He only smiles, leaning back. His hand moves down, stroking him slowly.

“Be good,” he breathes in his ear.

He is beautiful like this, his head bowed, his bare neck like an offering. _Take me, take all of me._ Tooru’s other hand wraps around his neck, pressing down on windpipe just enough to feel Hajime’s breath stutter. He presses his thumb against his apple, as his teeth suck a mark on the the other side of his neck.

He leans back and observes his work. Then, suddenly he reaches for the camera and turns it on. His eyes search for Hajime’s disapproval but there is only rising curiosity. Excitement.

He zooms on his neck, _click._

Hajime’s fingers massage his thighs and for a second he lowers his camera, to savour the feeling. He focuses the camera on Hajime’s arms, the place where he bit before, and takes a photo of it.

“Enough,” Hajime says then and digs his nails into his sides.

“So impatient,” Tooru chuckles. He looks at Hajime straight in the eye and then:

“I want to eat you out.”

He stares as Hajime stares back, his fingers on Tooru’s ass. Hajime leans forward, to kiss him, but he still won’t let him. He bites down, hard and Tooru whines. He thrusts a little, cocks pressing together. He gasps. Wants to kiss him again. Tooru thrusts back, lips on his neck.

Hajime huffs.

“I wanted to make you feel good today though.”

“You already have.”

“Just. Let me fucking kiss you.”

“If you say please.”

Hajime laughs. He feels tears at the corner of his eyes. Fuck the dignity, he doesn't care. _A man in love is more dangerous than anyone else._ “Fuck. Please. _Please.”_

Tooru lets him. He lets him unravel him completely, open mouthed kisses and hands around his neck. He kisses him like a man, dying for his prayer to be heard, and Tooru chokes on all the love he is receiving. He turns them around, his back pressed against Hajime’s chest. His lips still on him, a string of messy kisses pressed down his jawline as he strokes his cock. He puts his fingers in Hajime’s mouth and presses his lips to his nape when Hajime sucks on them.

“On your knees,” Tooru murmurs.

Hajime does as he is told, taking off the last of his clothes. He buries his face in his arms, and squeezes his eyes shut as Tooru’s wet fingers massage his hole. He wants to touch himself, but he knows he is not allowed. _Not yet._

Tooru presses kisses down his lower back, and he almost feels pathetic for feeling so sensitive. And yet, he is weirdly proud. Only Tooru makes him feel this way. _This good._

Tooru licks at his hole at first and then he presses his tongue flat against it. He knows all the right ways to make Hajime moan and suddenly it is too much _too soon, too overwhelming._ He hears himself swearing and his hand wraps around his cock, thrusting back, messing up the rhythm and he comes all over his hand. His knees give up, collapsing.

But this is not the end.

He rolls around just in time for Tooru to sit on his thighs once again, and he watches him as he jacks himself off, quick breaths escaping his lips. He wraps his hand around Tooru’s, squeezing it and Tooru’s mouth goes slack, his head bows and his other hand catches on Hajime’s chest as he comes.

He falls forward, a content little smile on his face as he nuzzles in Hajime’s neck.

_Click._

_“_ Hey!” Tooru protests.

_Click._

“Just so you know, I charge the use of my camera.” He mumbles in his jaw.

“How much?”

“Hmm, I haven’t decided yet, but it will cost you a lot.”

Hajime kisses his cheek instead, painting it soft pink. He lets Tooru take the camera away from him as he checks the time. Late afternoon, still plenty of time to spend it on the floor, loving Tooru.

_Click._

Tooru looks at him with curious interest and then back at the photo he just took.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“Us. _You.”_

Tooru pinches his side and he yelps. “You asshole! I'm serious.”

“You were beautiful,” Hajime murmurs into his shoulder, arms draped over his chest, “you are beautiful.”

Tooru beams up and he kisses the tip of Hajime’s nose.

All things concerned, having sex on a hot summer day is not really a solution, because now they are naked and sweaty and lying on the floor, and yet. There is no place he would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> I sin, you read.  
> That being said, I named this after [Y&Y's Worship](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3TflASAFJI). They are not my cup of tea, but this video is A+.  
> Comments, suggestions, thoughts, feedback of any kind is warmly welcome. If you see any mistakes, please tell me.


End file.
